Incompetent but Special Because You Are

After sending Beynon on his way, I entered the mansion with Havid.

The chief steward began reporting what had happened during my week away. Most of it concerned the servants' duties and the slaves working in the workshops. Nothing seemed particularly urgent, and I was listening with half an ear when Havid finished his account and offered me a letter.

“This arrived while you were away, my lord.”

“Ah.”

I stopped, turned a little to one side, and looked down.

The Count had warned me I might receive a letter from the imperial family. The roaring lion pressed into its seal left no room for doubt. I accepted it as calmly as I could, broke the seal, and unfolded the paper.

To Theorad Deharem of Pelgaroin County.

I have taken an interest in the artificial-rain magic you have researched for the past eight years.

If your theory is sound, even a prolonged drought need not remain a disaster. The completed spell could affect not only agriculture and the management of water but the outcome of battles as well.

I therefore wish to ask why, three years ago, you refused further research funding from the imperial family.

I am told that your progress was slow and that the burden of the research led you to decline our support. To attempt to govern the weather is to meddle with the heavens; I understand that such work places a considerable weight upon the mind.

Nevertheless, research that never reaches a conclusion is the mark of indolence—and a deception of the imperial family.

I have little affection for the indolent.

One week from now, in the afternoon, I shall send an auditor accompanied by several magicians of the imperial palace.

Benelia von Esteban

There was not a word of unnecessary courtesy in the letter. A chill ran down my back.

Benelia…

An iron-blooded princess without precedent. His Majesty the Emperor had two sons and three daughters, and she was the youngest of them all. She had only come of age last year. As the youngest daughter, she stood at the bottom of the succession, yet her reputation was anything but insignificant.

She had already made a name for herself as a commander in a combat unit directly attached to the imperial household. Even ministers spoke of her growing influence.

Why would someone like that take an interest in me?

I understood the appeal of artificial rain. If it truly worked, the spell might make the whole empire more prosperous. But that was only a theory.

I had not refused imperial funding because I was impatient with slow progress.

Artificial rain is a spell I cannot complete.

My ambition had been greater than my talent. The design was too vast and complicated for someone of my ability. The longer I studied it, the more clearly I saw the obstacles. Continuing with the imperial family's money would have been like pouring water into a bottomless jar.

So I had stopped taking their support.

And now I was expected to report my achievements, with only a week to prepare?

Why is this happening to me?

I wanted to cry. The Count must have spoken highly of my work, intending it as a kindness. He could hardly have known that his praise would draw the gaze of a princess who commanded the Emperor's own soldiers.

It was as though someone had recommended a man with two ordinary legs to demonstrate that he could fly.

“Havid.”

I sighed and slipped the letter inside my coat.

“When did this arrive?”

“Precisely four days ago, my lord.”

“Four days…?”

A hammer might as well have struck me on the head.

“W-why didn't you tell me sooner?”

“I apologize. You were working so diligently as regent that I did not wish to disturb you. And the witch who delivered it said there was no urgent message to relay…”

My thoughts tangled together.

The princess had allowed one week. Four days had already passed.

That leaves me three days. At most.

But I couldn't reasonably blame Havid. Opening correspondence addressed to the head of a noble house by the imperial family was an offense that could, in the broadest interpretation, amount to treason. He had no way of knowing its contents. And if the witch who delivered it had called it nonurgent, he had acted according to the information he possessed.

There was no one to blame, which somehow made the situation even more miserable.

I opened my mouth, closed it, and finally forced myself to speak.

“Very well. Havid, go back to the carriage, wake the elven slave, and bring in the box the Count gave me.”

“A box, my lord?”

“Gold and silver. His Excellency presented it to me for performing my duties as regent. It wasn't part of the estate's ordinary budget, so we may treat it as an unexpected gift.”

I considered the people who had kept the household running while I was gone.

“Buy good meat and liquor for the slaves working in the workshops. Give the servants a bonus equal to three-quarters of their wages in thanks for their work. Place whatever remains in the family safe.”

Havid's face softened into a smile.

“You are generous, my lord. I can already imagine how pleased everyone will be. In a household such as ours, some slaves even refuse their freedom after the term of their contracts has ended.”

“…What?”

That was the first I'd heard of it.

“Why would anyone refuse to be freed?”

“I asked them the same thing. They say that their lives in your service are more comfortable and prosperous than the lives they could expect as free people. Some even say that you are the only master who buys slaves for a great deal of money and then wishes to release them.”

“How absurd. What could be more important than freedom?”

A ridiculous possibility occurred to me.

“Havid, don't tell me you've been discouraging them from leaving.”

He lowered his eyebrows, plainly wounded.

“I have devoted my entire life to House Deharem. Would I disobey its head and treat the people entrusted to my care as though they were mere limbs to be used?”

“Of course not. I was joking. You know that I trust you completely.”

Only then did his expression brighten.

“My lord, you mustn't tease an old man so.”

Unlike Beynon, who seldom took a careless remark so seriously, Havid seemed wounded by every word I said. At times it worried me.

Then again, he had served this household longer than I had been alive. He must have wanted its prosperity every bit as earnestly as I did. I felt ashamed of myself for making light of that loyalty.

I was about to give him an apologetic smile when I heard a voice behind me.

“Master.”

The elf?

She came around the corner of the corridor, carrying the Count's gift box in both hands. She should have been asleep in the carriage.

“You left without waking me. I spent quite a while looking for you.”

The clicking of her heels against the floor sounded unreasonably ominous.

I stared at her, cold sweat prickling my back. Her eyes met mine with a hard, reproachful look.

“You mustn't leave behind a precious gift from His Excellency the Count. Isn't that right, Master?”

“Th-that…”

“Please answer properly. Why would you abandon a gift the Count personally bestowed—”

“You insolent creature!”

Havid's shout cut her off.

Before I could react, he struck the elf on the head. She flinched and turned toward him. His face had gone red with anger.

“How dare you stare at your master like that? Do you think Viscount Theorad, head of the distinguished House Deharem, is a friend you may scold?”

No. Don't do that, Grandfather.

You're going to die.

“Now you're glaring at me, too?” Havid demanded. “Because His Lordship has indulged you and spared you proper punishment, you've forgotten your place! Perhaps you need a lesson you'll remember!”

A vein rose on the elf's forehead.

This is bad. This is very bad.

I put a hand on Havid's shoulder. It trembled so badly that he turned to me in surprise.

“What is it, my lord?”

“Don't be so hard on her. She knows very little of the world.”

“All the more reason she must be taught! Leave it to me, my lord. I shall see that she learns.”

His furious eyes returned to the elf.

“First you broke a jar worth enough to buy a house, and now you behave like this? In all the world I've never seen a slave so ignorant and arrogant. Do you not understand that you are alive only because of the master's forbearance?”

She said nothing.

Apparently her silence was the last straw. Havid rolled up his sleeves.

“Very well. Today we'll find out which of us dies first, you shameless girl or me.”

You will, Grandfather. Definitely you.

“Not going to answer, are you? I may be old, but I exercised plenty in my younger days. I'll show you what a proper thrashing feels like!”

I seized his shoulder more firmly.

If he laid another hand on her, someone was going to bleed all over the mansion.

“Havid. I will deal with her myself.”

“My lord? But—”

“That's an order.”

The words stopped him. His anger faltered, and he stepped back.

I faced the elf, struggling to keep the relief out of my voice.

“You impudent wretch. You need a private lesson in manners. Go to my office and clean it. Hand the box to Havid first.”

“Y-yes, Master…”

Fortunately, she didn't turn her anger on me. Her expression eased a little as she gave Havid the box, then hurried along the corridor.

Havid watched her go, clicking his tongue.

“What an unruly creature. In another household, she would have lost her life long ago.”

“…Indeed.”

In another household, it would have been the master who lost his life.

“Now, about the orders from the imperial family…”

I stopped speaking.

An awful possibility had occurred to me.

When had the elf first appeared at the corner? Had she been standing there while I opened the princess's letter? I had turned partly sideways to read it, but an elf's eyesight was supposed to far surpass a human's.

What if she saw the letter?

If she learned that an imperial auditor was coming, and decided to create another little “mistake” so that I would have to scold her…

Damn it!

I broke into a run. Havid shouted something after me, but I couldn't spare the attention. I took the stairs several at a time and threw open my office door.

Just as I feared, the elf was standing there with my research journal in her hands.

When she saw me, she flinched and gave me a perfectly innocent look.

“Oh.”

The journal was suspended dangerously close above a flickering candle flame.

Cold sweat poured down my face.

There was no copy. If that journal burned, the research records I had to present to the imperial family would be gone.

I swallowed and tried desperately to calm myself.

“Stop. While I'm still asking nicely.”

I was not calm in the slightest.

“Put it down, you crazy bitch!”